


New York Eyes, Chicago Thighs

by Fudgyokra



Series: Kinktober 2019 [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Multi, Porn with Feelings, Shotgunning, Switching, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-23 12:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20892053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: “It’s just…we used to hang out a lot more before you shacked up with my baby brother. I miss things not being weird.”





	New York Eyes, Chicago Thighs

**Author's Note:**

> I'm late with this one because I straight-up dislocated my kneecap the other day, lmaooo. Woops!
> 
> Title from Fall Out Boy's "I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers."
> 
> Day 5: Feet | Sadism/Masochism | Feederism | Shotgunning*

Patrol that night was slow going. It was the kind of night where, around two in the morning, the majority of the family tapped out and moved on to better things, like avoiding the rain by slinking under the blankets in their beds at home. Sitting in front of the fireplace with a good book or some case files, perhaps. Even Dick had to admit he was tempted by the prospects.

Bruce was still out, and since Dick had developed the tiring habit of waiting until they could return to the manor together, that meant he was still out, too. At least it kept them both busy when life was in one of its particularly depressing slumps, he thought, resisting the urge to grumble to himself as he held his emergency tarp over his head and tried to blend into the shadows without risking pneumonia.

The street below glittered, wet asphalt reflecting the glow of the streetlamps. Dick, in full Nightwing garb, crouched atop one of them. Although he could be spotted if anyone squinted hard enough into the inky black night, people seldom did, so he maintained his position until either a PD alert or Oracle’s voice patched through to his comm-link. So far, nothing. For thirty minutes, nothing. For an hour, nothing.

His stomach growled.

Brilliant.

With a sigh, he grappled his way down to ground level, balling up his tarp so it didn’t drag like a flimsy parachute. Once his boots touched down, ankle-deep in an illuminated orange puddle of runoff from the gutter overhead, he took the necessary seconds to roll it up proper, storing it in his utility belt for later. On the other hand, he was beginning to like the idea of heading home now. Maybe even _home _home, to his shitty apartment in ‘Haven.

It would have certainly saved him the heartache of running into Roy Harper on his way to the street-corner deli.

He spotted Roy first only because he was in civvies, leaning back against the shop window while he smoked. They made eye contact for just long enough that Dick could see the way his shoulders squared, entire body going stiff as if he were an alley cat who’d caught sight of a dog. Seeing that felt wrong. They were supposed to be friends.

Well, they _were _friends. Things had just changed since the last time they’d seen each other, which, by Dick’s calculations, had been six months and some change. He’d started that stupid fight about Jason and then fled the scene. After they had just fucked, of course. Because Dick had half a brain and never used it to make smart choices when it came to his personal life.

It might have been funny if they weren’t pushing thirty and still making passes at each other like they were fifteen, both of them knowing damn well their lives were too hectic for anything substantial. Too old for teenage drama, Roy had said. And then doggedly went after his best-friend-slash-occasional-booty-call’s brother-but-not-really.

Dick rounded the corner without stopping or even acknowledging his presence. He had to reach his car inconspicuously enough to change into civilian clothes as well, and by the time he did, he could tell, with a sense of surety that came with knowing Roy like a well-loved book, that the man would still be waiting there for him.

He was. Baseball cap spattered with raindrops, hair twisted into a messy bun beneath it. Smoking with a newly-lit cigarette now, the other one stamped flat on the sidewalk and half visible from beneath his boot.

“Hey.” Roy spoke the word like he was treading a minefield. It ate Dick up inside.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied, shimmying his way beneath the tiny awning that could barely cover them both. They had to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and while Dick welcomed the body heat, he wasn’t quite as thrilled with the intimacy. Or, rather, the familiarity. “What are you doing in Gotham?”

“Prostituting myself.” Pause for a laugh that didn’t come. “Y’know, ‘cause it’s a dark-ass street corner.” Another pause, this one longer, dragging on past the patter of the rain. “Right, forgot that kind of thing isn’t funny here. It’s actually a problem, huh? I mean, seems like just the right kind of problem to have.”

Finally, Dick caved, allowing a soft smile to surmount the stoniness. For all the things that changed, Roy’s terrible sense of humor remained constant. “You’re awful,” he returned, fondly. “Don’t let Batman hear you joke about that.”

The two of them chuckled. Batman, universal constant number two, thriving solely on lack of fun and a steadfast drive to be the world’s biggest mood-killer.

When the laughter tapered off, Roy’s toothy grin flattened into a line of pursed lips. He cleared his throat. “Actually, I um. I’m here to meet Jason.”

Oh. Dick suddenly understood the frigidity from earlier. Maybe Roy had thought he and Jason had been in contact—that Dick somehow knewhe was destined to end up a third wheel and came calling anyway.

Roy took a long drag on his cigarette. A transparent excuse to turn away and blow smoke.

“I’m sorry for what happened,” Dick said at last, watching Roy face him again with his brows lifted high on his forehead. “It’s just…we used to hang out a lot more before you shacked up with my baby brother. I miss things not being weird.”

“He doesn’t like it when you call him that,” Roy informed him matter-of-factly, seconds before a heinously loud bike rolled to a stop in front of them, engine turning with a sound like some wicked beast’s guttural roar.

Jason removed the hood, the only part of his uniform he actually wore. The rest of him was dressed as casually as Roy, with a bit less tack, and Dick would bet money on him thinking it was hilarious to look like he casually fanboyed for the Red Hood.

He tapped the toe of his boot on the asphalt twice, the splashes it made taking on the auditory duties the clicks of his tongue were surely meant to convey. Since they couldn’t be heard over the roar of the bike, they served mainly as the only expression he was capable of wearing for this unforeseen situation. “’Sup, Dickolas?” he said, acting as if he weren’t at all surprised to see him there. “You tagging along?”

Dick laughed because he expected Roy to do the same. When he didn’t, a funny thrill ran along his spine, down his legs and all the way to his toes. “Um, no way,” he said, still choking on the laugh that poorly concealed his confusion. Why would Jason ask that? Did he even know what he was asking?

For a minute, he thought he might be misinterpreting what was going on, but then Roy’s hand settled on his shoulder and shook gently in a _come on_ kind of gesture. “You used to be a lot more fun,” he said, suggestive of everything Dick was mulling over in his blind panic.

“I don’t believe it,” Jason hollered back. He grinned and twisted the handle, revving the engine again as if to hurry the proceedings along. “He’s a total stick in the mud.”

“To you, maybe…baby bro,” Roy said with a nasty grin of his own.

Jason scowled, as expected. “Are you coming or not, idiot?”

It took Dick a second to figure out that Jason was talking to him, and another three after that to notice the cigarette Roy was holding in front of his lips, like he expected him to take a drag. He got the gist that they were trying to goad him into doing something. The _what _escaped him, mostly because the only idea he had was strange and sick and…and very, very thrilling.

“Oh, come on, guys,” he said, buying time to right his whirling world. Roy sent it into a tailspin seconds later, retracting the proffered cigarette and taking a drag himself, then leaning in and clasping a hand around the back of Dick’s neck. “What are you—” was as far as he got before Roy was kissing him, tender and familiar until his smoky exhale.

The first attempt was not a success. Dick blustered, nearly tripping himself on a backward step, and all the smoke he realized Roy was trying to breathe into his mouth escaped in a fog of gray as he laughed at Dick’s surprise.

“See, I told you,” Jason taunted, breathless like he’d been laughing too and Dick simply hadn’t heard it over the pounding of his own heart in his ears. Instinctively, though, he knew Jason hadn’t made a sound. His leg bounced with nervous energy from where it was slung over his motorcycle, and Dick got the picture in an epiphany that put all of Jason’s nitpicking into perspective. Like, for example, being called Dick’s little brother.

He wanted Dick to say yes. He’d known what he was asking for the entire time, and was riding on the assumption that Dick would either laugh it off (which, to be fair, he had) or bite the bullet and accept the threesome of his dreams that usually felt more like nightmares whenever he considered the possibility. The split-second of unbridled lust before he sank into the guilt that inevitably came after.

The second attempt was important. Carefully, composed now despite all his previous floundering, he reached for Roy’s cigarette. “Give me that,” he muttered. Roy rolled his eyes and handed it over, probably expecting him to toss it in the nearest puddle and scold them for being creatures of disgusting habits. He still might do that later, actually. But for now he focused on pulling a breath that wouldn’t send him into a coughing fit, holding the burn in his lungs for the briefest of moments: the split-second of _excitement _before he sank into the comfort of Roy’s mouth on his.

Jason made a sound from the road that came out hilariously gurgled, and Dick reveled in that as much as the shaky breath Roy took against his skin before dragging him in again. So close Dick could feel the choppy leather of all his bracelets pressing against his neck where Roy held him. His lips were cold, a testament to how long he’d been standing outside, and now that Dick was present enough to notice, he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, disrupting the flow of smoke for just a second. Luckily, Roy seemed to know what he was doing, and although Dick knew his way around a kiss, it was different to take someone else’s breath away. Literally.

He did it slow, taking in all the smoke and feelings and unspoken words that seeped from the corners of Dick’s mouth. When he pressed forward again, he was warmer, one last real kiss given before he backed up and blew out what was left in a thin stream like a ghost of promise. Then, he smiled.

“You comin’, or what?”

“I’ll drive behind.”

* * *

At first, Dick felt bad for accepting. Not the same kind of bad as before, where he’d been stewing in his guilt for that argument with Roy and for the way he’d looked at Jason, but a new and sobering kind that made him feel peculiarly like a teenager caught doing something he shouldn’t be.

“You guys are gonna make me go insane.”

Roy and Dick turned toward Jason, who sat on the sofa in what functioned as his safe house’s living room. He had his legs crossed, ankle over knee, and the foot held aloft jiggled up and down with the same nervous energy from earlier. He wasn’t looking directly at them, but Dick got the feeling it was because they had been making out nonstop since they’d gotten inside. In fact, they were still standing barely a yard from the front door.

Now the negative reaction stirring in Dick’s gut was forged from the possibility that he was intruding on their relationship, in whatever state that happened to exist. He had made the mistake once, assuming Roy and Jason were just friends. He had no intention of leaping at the chance to make it again.

“I’m sorry,” he began, halfway an apology and halfway a statement of puzzlement, “are you two…_together _together? Because I didn’t mean to force my way in.”

Jason’s face colored alarmingly quickly. “It’s not that.”

“Poor baby,” Roy teased, handily taking the tension in the room from subtle to obvious in two short words.

Dick, stupidly, tripped over his question with uncharacteristic anxiety. “What, er...what’s going on?”

Roy toed off his shoes and crossed the carpeted distance from door to sofa, lowering himself on the cushion beside Jason with just enough space between them to make his point before his words even came out. “He’s just jealous I’m hogging all your attention.”

“That’s not true,” Jason started, and Roy immediately began to argue with him jokingly, speaking over his words in a way that got Jason to turn even redder and snap a series of threats in escalating decibels. In the process, Dick’s feet carried him forward before his brain came online, and, once it had, he was already sitting snugly between them, feeling the heat of their thighs on either side of his own through every layer of clothing still painfully on them.

“If you don’t hurry up and kiss him I’m afraid he’ll explode,” Roy put in, unhelpfully.

Dick didn’t know if he could do that. He _wanted _to do that, but the fear of proceeding kept him still, leaving any initiating movements he might have made locked behind the steel jaws of his omnipresent guilt.

“Harper, I swear to god, I’ll kill you,” Jason griped. It seemed to Dick that his presence had weakened Jason’s bravado from the street considerably. It was cute.

The recollection of earlier events gave him an idea.

“Roy,” he said, “how ‘bout a light?”

Green eyes sparkled knowingly. “Let’s take it to the bedroom,” Roy said, and neither of them argued when they followed his lead, marked by a billow of cigarette smoke and a faint orange ember.

Clothes were discarded with little finesse or worry, left by Roy and Dick on the floor in piles, and by Jason in neatly-folded squares atop his dresser. “Fuckin’ barn animals,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.

“Oh, we’re about to be—”

“Hush,” Dick interrupted, snatching the cigarette from between his fingers with a glare of warning that entirely lacked heat. Predictably, Roy only grinned. “Jason,” he went on, moving close enough that his hand brushed Jason’s naked thigh, the contact electric and intoxicating without the threat of the man up and running like a scared rabbit. “Want a hit?”

“Like, from you?” Jason asked, like he was surprised Dick was offering. “I…don’t actually smoke.”

Dick laughed once and shook his head. “Neither do I.”

The sideways smile that bloomed on Jason’s face made him look absurdly like a puppy, metaphorical tail wagging. “All right. Give me that.” The cigarette passed between fingers again. Dick made sure his touch lingered.

Jason sighed, shaky with excitement, and the fact it could be heard stirred both Roy and Dick from their stationary positions into something more active. Jason took a drag, coughed, tried again, and waved a beseeching hand toward Dick.

The second those lips were on his, Dick claimed them with fervor. There wasn’t anything patient about it, smoke pressed and burning between them, Jason’s hand curling in Dick’s hair.

Roy was on Jason’s other flank, mouthing messily at his pulse point, and the soft sound of wonder he made dragged everyone’s attention down to the hardness he held in his fist, where his hand had fluttered deliberately between Jason’s legs. “You’re already ready for it, aren’t you, Jaybird?”

Jason told him to shut up. It sounded an awful lot like he’d said _I love you._ Dick couldn’t help the smile on his face, despite himself, at least until Roy tsk-ed and leaned over to rifle through the bedside table drawer. After that he couldn’t keep his lip from between his own teeth, chewing to draw blood if only to hold himself back from touching.

Roy didn’t seem concerned with the fact his ass was in the air, palm marks and other assorted lines from swatting objects fully visible. That, and the red ring of raw, fucked-out muscle that Jason unabashedly slid his fingers into dry, to the tune of a preoccupied grunt from Roy. “Chill out, would you?” he admonished, straightening so Jason had no choice but to obey. He came back with a nearly-empty bottle of lubricant, which meant they probably weren’t waiting much longer.

Dick’s hypothesis proved true once Roy settled in Jason’s lap, knees locked on either side of ample thighs. After a wet and clumsy job of slicking him up, he positioned himself over Jason’s cock and dropped down, taking him in one go with a long, low moan of satisfaction.

For a second, Dick almost forgot how to breathe. Watching Jason take a drag and pull Roy in by the hair to share it lit something in him on fire, smoldering like the burning tip of the filter, steadily reaching its end as they passed it among themselves.

With the hesitation abandoned, Jason moved desperately, snatching Dick forward next so that his hand shot out to catch himself from the force of the pull. He landed splayed on Jason’s abdomen, feeling the muscles there contract and expand with every powerful roll of his hips.

“God, yes,” Roy groaned, leaning his forehead against Jason’s temple while Jason tongued another mouthful of smoke past Dick’s lips, leaving him reeling as he was given the last crumbling bit of the cigarette.

For a long while, he didn’t do anything but hold it, watching the two of them move with such practice and fluidity that he was mesmerized by it. He wondered, idly, before the tips of his fingers began to burn with the cherry, and he had to put the damn thing out on the burn-marked end table, if he and Roy ever looked that graceful, or if it was the sheer fact of Jason’s body controlling the speed and angle.

“He’s so good,” Roy informed him, as if reading Dick’s mind. His hands curled almost possessively over Jason’s shoulders, holding him down as he shifted straighter and took the reigns himself. And then, with a suggestive dip in his tone, “Not bad from the back, either.”

“You’re an embarrassment,” Jason said, letting his fingers press hard enough into Roy’s hips that the skin dimpled and turned white. Still, the fact of his heady gaze trained on Dick suggested that the offer had been extended. All Dick had to do was take it.

This time he wasn’t going to beat around the bush.

“Yeah, I bet,” he answered, grabbing the bottle of lubricant from the sheets Jason and Roy were currently twisting in their haste. “Why don’t you prove it, then.” The last part was spoken to Jason, who all but heeled the moment Dick spoke to him, as if he’d been starving for the opportunity the second any of this had been set in motion. Perhaps even before that. Dick shivered pleasantly at the idea, mouth wrapping around the words before he’d even fully thought them through when he said, “Show me how badly you’ve been wanting it.”

“Fuck you,” Jason breathed, fairly devoid of poison considering how he all but lifted Roy off his cock and rolled over on his stomach.

“Good boy,” Roy offered, thighs still shuddering from the ride, even as he ran a fond hand down Jason’s thigh and tacked on a filthy, “Ass up, now.”

Dick wondered what they got up to in their spare time, going by the tone and the speed with which Jason obeyed. Not to mention all the marks down Roy’s legs. Might be something to ask about later, he mused.

For now, he focused on wetting his fingers, letting Roy spread Jason apart for him to open up, the two of them working in tandem until Jason was practically begging. Naturally, he’d never admit that he enjoyed it half as much as he did, but it was part of his charm. Roy seemed to agree, since he pulled Jason’s head back by the hair and leaned down to stage-whisper lewd words of encouragement in his ear. Things like “Feels good, doesn't it?” and “Know how you like to take it on your knees” and something else that got lost on the wisps of Jason’s whine when Dick struck his prostate with precision. He might also have to ask about Roy’s nasty mouth. He sure as hell didn’t learn that kind of talk from Oliver.

Finally, on what felt like the frayed edges of his own sanity’s rope, Dick deemed Jason prepared enough and circled his now-sloppy hole with his thumb, admiring the way he twitched and keened from the stimulation.

“Hurry up,” he demanded, hilariously impatient. All that bolstering before, Dick thought, and in bed he was a complete brat.

"Mind your manners, Jay," Roy said, shortly before ignoring his own advice and curling his fist around Dick's cock, fueling the spasm of his hips. It had him rubbing along Jason's crease until the man was muttering curses at him. Dick grinned and pet Jason's hair as if they had simply been words of affection, earning a wiggle against him for the effort.

"Fuck you and your manners," Jason returned. He was trying to push back onto Dick, but with the hand holding him by the thigh, he didn't get very far.

Roy hummed as if in thought, stroking idly until Dick leaked pre-cum down his knuckles, one long stripe that they both watched roll across his skin with similarly enraptured expressions. By the time they looked each other in the face again, it was Roy's turn to grin. "I guess Jaybird's not the only eager one."

"Shut up and fuck me," he said, as pleasantly as if he were requesting a drink to-go.

"Aye aye, Captain."

Smartass.

There wasn't much of the lubricant left, but Dick didn't mind the friction, especially not when Roy finally let him push inside Jason, stretching him open in one long stroke. Jason took it with his teeth digging into the pillowcase, which, frankly, did nothing to mute the shivery moan spilling from between them.

Roy tended to have a good memory, if the way he rubbed himself tauntingly between Dick's cheeks meant anything. He didn't need the preparation, much to Roy's typical dissent, but over the period they'd been together, he found that arguing with Dick got about as much accomplished as trying to jam pegs into the wrong holes. And he sure had made that joke too many times to count. Dick loved that he could depend on the little things.

Like the way Roy grabbed his hips in a grip that was all nails. Or how he popped the head of his cock in with a grunt of exertion, each shallow roll afterward dragging a similarly choked sound. Meanwhile, Dick shamelessly keened at every inch speared inside.

"Missed this," Roy said, breathless in a way that had little to do with effort and more with the sheer sensation. "I ought to 'shack up' with the wrong guy more often."

He was going to get it later, Dick promised himself, sparing an eye roll for the piss-poor humor. He was gonna make it hard for him to walk the next day, that was for certain.

Jason demanded movement within seconds of them getting settled. He was a lot like Bruce as far as general impatience went, but if Dick even so much as implied that out loud, Jason would have his head for it. So, slowly, he pulled out to the tip, his hands flitting up Jason's thighs for comfort, then pinching just for fun. He expected dissent and instead got a muffled groan. Curiously, he did it again, this time on the inner leg, until Jason outright gasped.

"Quit," he said, voice watery. "Dickhead."

When he thrust forward, entering him again, they shared a similarly pleasured noise, which was soon eclipsed by louder, more substantial ones at Roy joining the fray, no hesitation preceding brutally hard thrusts.

Dick heard one of them curse, but he couldn't discern which one in his state of floating bliss, where each sigh and groan felt carved out of him involuntarily, each panting breath forced from his lungs on the end of every thrust, whenever the connection of Roy's hips to Dick's ass made a crude sound of its own. The loudest sounds by far, though, came from Jason, who squirmed and twisted and cried out in his overwhelm, until he tightened all over during his finish with a perfectly R-rated whine and an equally lewd arch to his back.

Affectionately, Dick traced fingers along Jason's spine, watching the goosebumps rise.

Roy kept moving, fucking Dick into Jason's body with unforgiving speed, turning the man's exhausted panting into shrill noises of over-stimulation. Dick was surprised he didn't ask for reprieve. In fact, after a few more seconds of the onslaught, Roy simply stopped of his own accord, apparently able to sense when Jason had officially had enough.

The second Dick pulled out, Jason collapsed on his stomach, face tilted on the pillow to look back at them. His lips were parted against the fabric, heated breaths and a thin stream of drool putting a profound sense of pride right in Dick's chest.

"That was faster than usual." Roy tutted, combing fingers through his hair as he laid his chin on Dick's shoulder. "I'm jealous."

"Don't be," Dick replied, his own voice dripping honey. Roy's brief hum of confusion gave way to a squeak when Dick ground his ass back against him and then pulled off entirely, making a motion with his finger for Roy to turn around. "You're about to get it, too."

To his credit, the surprise melted easily into the usual mischief. As much as Dick enjoyed the faint flush across the bridge of his freckled nose, he couldn't help but shove Roy down on his back, hard, and watch the pink abruptly become a proper red. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dick cut him off with a kiss, partly as an excuse to bend pale legs back against the mattress and shove his cock in without warning. Roy's mouth slid messily to the side of Dick's face in a shout when he kept the pace, fucking him until his legs bobbed on Dick's shoulders and then crossed tightly at the ankles. Using the leverage, Roy yanked him closer and stuttered out, "Almost there!"

Gingerly, Dick traced a shape on the back of Roy's thigh, slowing his speed to a crawl. Expectedly, Roy complained. "Don't you dare, you prick."

When he tried to reach down and jerk himself the rest of the way to completion, Dick caught his wrist and pinned it. "Payback," he said with a smirk, "for all the baby brother comments tonight."

Behind them, Jason snorted a laugh. "Oh, he deserves it."

"Whose side are you on?" Roy moaned, still fighting Dick's grasp for dear life, even as he nipped playfully at his ear.

When Jason came to lounge beside them and pried Roy's hand away from Dick's, the question had seemingly been answered. Then, not two seconds later, his other hand reached around and pinched Dick's ass, making him jerk forward into Roy's body with a clipped groan of interest. "That was for pinching me," Jason said matter-of-factly. Then, sliding his fingers inside, leaned down to whisper in Dick's ear, "And that's for making me watch you two make out half the night."

"Jay," Dick started, more of a huff of air than a name.

It was cut off, anyway, by Jason's tutting and falsely apologetic, "Sorry, but you earned it."

Roy, still red-faced and laughing underneath him, had the nerve to agree, so Dick shut him up with a hand across his mouth as he began jack-hammering into him, watching with a measure of smugness as the man's hips lifted clear off the mattress, trying to take him deeper.

If it weren't for Jason's fingers prodding insistently against his prostate, Dick internally swore to himself he would have lasted longer, but between the two of them, he was apt to go loony if he held out any more. His climax racked through him with a tremor, the only thing keeping him from outright screaming being Jason dragging him in for a smoke-flavored kiss. Neither of them seemed to mind the clack of teeth or the leftover stain of nicotine, but Roy certainly minded being left alone.

"Do I not get brownie points for playing matchmaker?" he mumbled, still arching against Dick's front. "Help a guy out."

Jason hummed against Dick's mouth and commanded, in a single enraptured breath, "Beg."

Dick had never once seen Roy beg for anything. In fact, he was positive Jason was about to be told to shove it, in not so polite a fashion, but, to his surprise, Roy only glared at them both and muttered, "Please."

His grin stretched from ear to ear. "You can do better." Just to be a jerk, he accentuated the reward by trailing his finger up Roy's cock, watching it bob heavily before dropping back to his stomach, leaving a small puddle in its wake.

"Oh, you bast—"

Jason cut him off by affectionately nipping at his lower lip, and Roy's tune immediately changed. After making a sound Dick was surprised to call a whimper, Roy gritted his teeth and said, "I need it. Please, I'll be good if you just—" a gasp at a single, teasing rock of Dick inside of him, and then— "fuck me! Jesus, I want to come on your cock, come on, come on!"

Dick leaned his forehead against Roy's and muttered a curse as he pistoned forward again, feeling the thrum of the continued stimulation run through every nerve in his body. Roy was overheated and tight when he came with a shout, head thrown back in the covers and his mouth stretched around unrestrained cries. Finally, he relaxed, a little shiver to his legs like before as his knees collapsed to his sides. He looked completely ruined, and Dick was beginning to get the idea of the games he and Jason played behind closed doors.

"You okay?" He smiled, feeling Jason's chin rest on his shoulder as they both looked down at his splayed form.

"Better than okay," Roy replied breathlessly. "Y'know what's funny, though? I could really, really go for a smoke."


End file.
